“In the first place, the automobile arrived the afternoon of the day you departed for this Fair. That is how it happens I’m here,” and Billy wiggled his ears and rolled his eyes to watch the effect of this on the Duke.
He was disappointed. There stood the prize calf calmly chewing away, all unmindful of the fact that he was expected to be overwhelmed at the statement.
“Yes, I came in the automobile,” repeated pompous Billy.
Still no evidence of surprise from the Duke.
“I came to the Fair in the new machine,” almost thundered the goat.
“Well, and I came in the wagon. The main thing is we’re here, not how we came. You may proceed with your story, little Mr. Puff-ball.”
“If you’re going to be impertinent, I think I’ll go home for the night, after all,” Billy decided, and was even edging toward the door of the stall, slowly to be sure, but still moving in that direction.
“Don’t be foolish, Billy! You always carry a chip on the tip of your horns. See, here is a nice, soft bed waiting and ready for us. You may have that corner where the straw is the thickest,” and mollified by this generosity and evidence of great good will, Billy settled himself comfortably for the night.
“Pleasant dreams,” from the goat.
“Sweet sleep,” from the calf, and all was quiet.